


Chatting In The Graveyard At 3 a.m.

by Menomegirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-04
Updated: 2005-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menomegirl/pseuds/Menomegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during the episode "Touched". In this fic, Faith left the Summers' residence after seeing The First/The Mayor and takes a stroll to do some thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chatting In The Graveyard At 3 a.m.

**Chatting In The Graveyard At 3AM**

 

The battle was fierce and furious, for the few minutes it lasted, just long enough to get her blood pumping. Then it was over, dust swirling around her, falling at her feet, filtering into her body as she breathed, and this time was no different than the others....never entirely sure whose face she saw in her mind in the split second before she drove the stake home, her own or Buffy's.

"Nice moves. Thought you kind of played him like a worm on a hook, but hey, no one's perfect."

Faith turned around and attacked on pure instinct at the mocking tone, stake poised and ready as she lunged at the blur of blue cotton and dress pants, but all she felt was cold air and mist as she rushed forward, stumbling in shock as her body went right through his, muttering "What the hell?", fear blooming as she whipped back around, her stance belying that fear.

"Good try, Faith," he said, his hands slipping into his pockets, a shrug to his shoulders. "Too late, though. Buffy was here first."

Faith snorted, replying, "What's new about that? She always is," then glared at him. "Hey, don't I know you? Isn't your name Webster or something?"

"Webs, Holden Webster...and yeah, sort of. Junior year, dance at the Bronze. You pulled me out and we went to some motel room." He chuckles, grinning slightly. "You remember that? I didn't think you were all that impressed."

"Actually, it was kind of a blur, but I do seem to recall I was your first, though," Faith said, then snorted. "Guess Buffy's not always there before me, after all."

"Guess not," Holden replied. "So, you're a slayer, too? Huh. You must be the 'pretty much' Buffy meant when she told me she was 'the' slayer. She really does have one hell of a superiority complex."

"Well, hell yeah, she does," Faith agreed. "Been thinking that for two years and.." She stopped, then looked him up and down. "Okay, that's low, coming here all tricked out as some guy I boffed just to blow off steam. What? Keeping me distracted until one of those uber-vamp things show up? Well, bring it on. I'm not afraid."

Holden held up his hands. "Hey, calm down. I'm not the First, I'm just a ghost. I'm not even evil."

"Not evil? Wait, wait, wait," Faith said. "If Buffy dusted you, you should be, like...in hell or something. Not back here. Vamps just don't come back like that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, then smirked. "I'm special."

Faith's eyes raked him from head to foot. "You know, I don't remember it being that special."

"Oh, funny. Now who's being low?" She shrugged, but didn't reply back. "Okay, here's the deal. Short version. Buffy killed me. The higher powers sent me back. Oh and I'm empathic, too."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why are you a ghost?"

"Oh, something about probation. It's not important." Holden replied. "What is important is you, Faith. Why are you out here, endangering yourself, instead of back there, where you're needed?"

"I'm not important to anybody," she retorted. "I never fucking was. I'm the second-string, second best choice, the back-up plan, only-because we-have-to person. I never mattered to anyone. You know, I was always the kid with my nose pressed against someone else's window, wanting in....and most of the time, it was Buffy's window I was looking in. And now..."

"And now...what?"

"She asked if I was happy, said I'd finally gotten what I'd wanted...."

"Are you upset because she was right or because she was wrong?"

"Because she's right...part of me _is_ happy, but now that I have the responsibility, I just...."

"Don't want it?"

"No, I don't."

"Who does? Jeez, Faith...you more than anyone should know being the responsible one sucks the big one. Yay you!...it's all happy times because you're finally redeemed and whoops! Here are all these lives in your hands. Don't drop the ball or you're pretty much fucked...again...and this time? This time you get to feel all the guilt, all the burden that responsibility brings. Yeah, not surprised you don't want it."

Faith's mouth dropped open. "What kind of spiritual guide are you?"

"Hey, I never said that's what I was. Hello? Stuck here on Earth without flesh? What kind of spiritual guide you looking for? Deepak Chopera was busy...he has a con this weekend and Moses is swimming in the Red Sea Triatholon. Besides," Holden said, tugging his lapels straight and shrugging his shoulders. "You could do worse. I mean, nobody had to do the hokey-pokey to get me here. I call 'em like I see 'em and all I see is fear. That's a good thing. Fear breeds caution. You can do this, Faith. It's what you were born for. It's your destiny."

"I don't want it," Faith whispered.

"Oh, that's rich. What? Are you gonna pout, whine and complain about the burden of slayerness now? Oh, come on! I think everyone's had it with that routine. You've wanted this for years and now it's your chance, your time to see how it would've been and you can't give up now. And do you know why you shouldn't? Because it's wrong."

Faith flushed, but she raised her eyes to look at him. "And what if I get them killed? Wouldn't that be the same as doing it with my own hands?"

He stepped closer, raised a hand and Faith felt a cool whisper of touch against her cheek. "This is a war, Faith. People are going to die, that cannot be avoided. That's what war is, killing your enemies. You know this. You know it better than Buffy does, even. You've seen both sides. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and all you can do...is the best you can. It's all any of us can ever do. In the end, the lives you save tomorrow will balance the scales."

"That's a cold way of looking at it," Faith replied.

"Maybe. Maybe it is. But you're dealing with something ancient here. Sometimes, the old ways are best," he said. "And this is one of them. Time to stand up and be counted, Faith. Even if it's only for one single shining minute."

Faith nodded. "Thank you, Webster."

"You're welcome," Holden replied. "Now, go back to where you belong." Faith nodded again, turned around and started walking away. "And thanks. For remembering me," he called out when she was some distance away. She raised her hand in acknowledgment and disappeared.

Holden slid his hands in his pockets, rocked back onto the balls of his feet and said, "Is that it? Is that what you sent me back to do?"

And behind him, the sizzling sound of electricity filled the air and he heard several voices all at once.

"Locked."

"Loaded."

"Now."

There was a blinding flash of light, and his body was encircled in glowing green ropes that sent pain flaring through his ghostly form. There was a bright burst of white light and Holden Webster was sucked into the little box not far from where he's been standing before, just time enough to think to himself, "Do the right thing and still get fucked - figures. So close and then *wham*, right up the ass without so much as an *incoming!*"

In the sudden darkness, the snick of a lighter was heard, a tiny flame appeared.

"Does every town we go to have to be Spook Central?"

"Hey, blame Vinkman. He's the reason we're here."

"So, we're leaving now, right? Think there's a chance we could stop in Vegas on the way to Los Angeles?"

 

the end.


End file.
